Showing posts from November, 2015

Throwback Thursday : Sacred, Australia, Poetry


Midweek Musing: the gift of being remembered

Remembering. Re-membering. Restoring to wholeness.

I am pondering today the gift it is to remember another – on their birthday, in the midst of trouble, before or after an important moment, unexpectedly because some song or story brought them to mind.

The gift is in telling that person they have been remembered. You have thought of them, 'seen' them, cared and been grateful for them. You are telling another they are not alone, they are loved and they are valued.

In hearing this, a person will be nourished, their inevitable brokenness healed a little, or a lot may be.

You already know this, of course, because you have experienced it yourself – or I hope you have.

To thus remember others is a gift to ourselves, too, for we are fully human only with each other. Putting others in the forefront of our minds is healthy – the alternative is selfishness and an inward gaze of unhealthiness.

This pondering has been inspired by the opposite of being remembered – being forgotten, feeling…

Throwback Thursday - to poetry and being well


Midweek Musing. Carry light.

This week's midweek musing is inspired by Lezley's words from the Greyfriars Kirk pulpit on Sunday.

Where light shines and how light shines will influence what we see.

But remember, we carry light.

So, in the silent spaces of this musing place, ponder with me:

Where will we shine our light?

How will we shine our light?

How will we transform the darkness?

another bomb, another prayer

November 2015 adaptation of ‘Prayer for Oslo
God, there are lots of words we want to say to you, lots of people we want to pray for with you, places we want to give into your care.
Today we want to say things to you about Paris and Beirut - we want to say, Why? What? We want to say - No!
We pray with you for the people of Beirut and Paris, those who have died, their family and friends who have lost sisters, brothers, children, friends ... the people of these cities, and the countries, whose hearts are breaking - our hearts are breaking with them, and we know your heart is breaking too.
We pray for the emergency services people finding the broken bodies healing the wounded, searching for the missing, protecting the living.
We pray for people who have done these terrible things, for their troubled souls; and we pray for those who are investigating and prosecuting: may calmness and wisdom guide them. 
We give to you what are your places, the countries of France and Lebanon; may you be known there as peace and…

Throwback Thursday : draw the curtains


Midweek Musing: Puttin' on the Robes. On wearing liturgical garments

In recent weeks, I have enjoyed 'robing up' again, a much rarer occurrence since moving to Scotland and away from placement as a congregational minister. Various comments and conversations have prompted reflection on why I wear the alb and stole. I am sure I have written about it before, but here's another set of thoughts, on why, when I am leading gathered worship, I wear a funny white robe and a coloured scarf.

Perhaps I ought to describe what these garments are, for those not familiar with the tradition. And specify that my tradition is Uniting Church in Australia, protestant, with heritage in Presbyterian, Congregational and Methodist churches.

The alb – from latin alba, meaning white – represents our baptism, all the members of the body of Christ, baptised into the one Spirit. Technically, anyone who is baptised can wear an alb, and I believe in some traditions or congregations, whoever is leading worship or reading from the Sacred Book will wear an alb. My alb has a …

When my own voice falters

listening to the women who believe in me
you told me ‘you are awesome’; I will take that hat and wear it, play that role ‘til I believe it of myself without the costume
you told me ‘you are excellent at all you do’; I will strap those laces and stride in borrowed boots until I find my own again
you told me ‘you inspire me with your resilience’; I will wield my sword left handed while cuts and bruises are healing
you told me ‘I appreciate your vulnerability’; I will remain on centre stage, not seeing all those empty seats
you told me ‘you will be ok, you always are’; and I believe you, for on this you are always right
you told me ‘have no fall back plan’; and so I fall – in desperation spread my wings and learn to fly

throwback thursday sweet nothings


Midweek Musing: the illness that keeps on teaching

I'm afraid I might have been dismissive of someone else's experience recently. Trampled all over it, even. A new insight appeared to me, which I didn't entirely recognise at the time, and it is now, at half past midnight, when I have stayed up watching more episodes of a favourite tv series than was good for me to do, that I start to understand what I was discovering.

This someone was talking about the lack of self-worth that some people feel with experiences or episodes of depression. And it felt to me, in that moment, that lack of self-worth wasn't part of my experience. I did at times lose confidence, but on reflection, I don't think I doubted that I was worthy.

I had a profound sense of uncertainty about who I was, about where my place was in the world. When I felt ill-equipped to recommend myself it was, I now think, because I did not know who I was recommending, had not found my place in the world, named the gifts I had received and could offer to my communit…